C.H. Armstrong Books

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again:   There are days when I wish I could crawl inside my son’s brain just to see where and how he comes up with some of the things that come out of his mouth.  At 7, his brain is always working.  Getting him to bed at night is nothing short of a nightmare because he’s always coming out of his room saying, “Just one more thing…” and then launches into the next bizarre question that’s been gnawing at him.  His brain just doesn’t stop working.

The other day we were driving down the road, on our way home from his golf lessons, when he launched into the following discussion:

“Mom,” Braden said, “when I get married and my wife has a baby, what happens if she dies while having the baby?”

“Well, that would be really bad,” I said, “but I don’t think it’s something you really have to worry about.  Women don’t die very often any more when they’re having babies.”

“Okay…but what if she did?” he asked.

I thought on this for a second and then responded, “Well, I suppose you have a funeral and you mourn for her and then you move on with your life at some point.”

“Yeah, but what about the baby?  Do I have to keep the baby or can I give it away?”

What the… what??

“Give it away?  Why in the world would you do that?” I asked.

“Well, ya know…like in Star Wars when that woman has two babies and she dies.  They gave them away.”

“Ahhh!  Gotcha!” I said.  “Well, that’s just a movie.  If your wife died and left a baby behind, you’d have a baby.  You don’t give the baby away.”

“Oh.  Why not?”

“Why not?” I said.  “Because he’s  your baby!  You’d be his daddy.  How would you feel if I had died while you were being born and Daddy decided to give you away?”

Clearly I’m taking this conversation way too seriously!  I better get a grip and quickly!

“Oh. That wouldn’t be very good,” he said.

“That right.  See?” I said.

Several moments passed, and I could almost hear the wheels churning in his brain.   I had no idea what he was thinking, but I knew with the certainty of a mom that this conversation wasn’t over.  Finally after several moments, he was ready to ask his next question.

“Do I get married again after my wife dies?” he asked.

“Well you can, ” I replied.  “But you don’t have to.  It’s up to you.”

“Ohhh…I’d have to get married again!” he responded.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Well, somebody has to take care of that baby!  If I can’t give it away, then I have to get a new wife to take care of it.  I can’t do it.  I’m a man!”

Oh my!  Thank God he’s only 7.  That gives me about 20 more years to set his thinking straight before his future wife has me drawn and quartered.  Cuteness will only get him so far.  And, seriously, he’s not that cute!